


It's Not Easy Having Yourself A Good Time

by dollsome



Category: Merlin (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-07
Updated: 2011-08-07
Packaged: 2017-10-22 09:01:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/236365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollsome/pseuds/dollsome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Merlin uses his stalker skills for good, and Morgana is really grumpy about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Not Easy Having Yourself A Good Time

Gwen brings in a vase of roses. They're a pleasing shade of red. Blood red, some might say.

"Thank you, Gwen, they're lovely," Morgana says -- or, more precisely, simpers. Gwen bows her head, murmuring something that ends with 'milady,' then quickly ducks out of the room. (She's acting so strange lately.) As soon as she's gone, Morgana sneers at the flowers. Pathetic things. Even if they _are_ blood colored. Blood is also blood colored, and she finds it far preferable. In fact, she's really in the mood to spill some. Particularly Uther's, or Arthur's, but really anyone would do--

"She's got you all figured out, you know."

Morgana screams.

Merlin pops out from behind one of the curtains.

"Merlin!" she fumes. "What the hell d'you think you're doing??"

"Keeping an eye on Gwen," Merlin says, as if Morgana's actually stupid enough to murder her own maid. How would her hair get done?

"How long have you been in here??" Morgana demands.

"Doesn't matter," Merlin says smoothly.

Morgana is pretty certain it does. "Were you here when--?"

"You had that chat with Morgause in your washbasin? Yep. Personally, I think she's been pulling your leg about some of those 'spells.' It's funny, Morgana, I never would have pegged you for gullible."

Morgana ignores him. Her sister would _never_. "How about when--"

"You changed the words in the royal troubadour's most recent ballad from 'O mighty mighty Camelot, the greatest land of all' to 'O mighty great Morganalot, your new name pleases us all'?"

"You must have misheard that," Morgana says as regally as she can.

"You've a bit of a problem with the syllables there," Merlin replies. "You tried to fit an extra one in--"

Morgana explodes the vase of flowers with her eyes.

"That was uncalled for," Merlin frowns.

"I am sick," Morgana growls, "of _flowers_."

"If you ask me," Merlin says, even though she's very sure she _didn't_ , "we could do with a little more flowers and a little less attempted murder around here."

"You're a fool," she spits.

"Because I like flowers more than murder?"

"Yes," Morgana says stoutly.

Merlin shrugs. "I'm pretty sure that just means I'm not evil."

"I'm not evil," Morgana grumbles. "I'm misunderstood."

Merlin lifts an unconvinced eyebrow at her. Then he strides over to her bed and lifts up her pillow. Underneath it are the corpses of two baby sparrows with their feet cut off. Which, for the record, is a proven way to enhance one's magical power and channel weakness to one's enemies. Morgause told her so.

They've got purple ribbons tied around their necks. Morgana thought it made for a nice touch. Now, would an evil person take that kind of time and consideration?

But of course Merlin's too blockheaded to pick up on any of that. He's clearly been spending too much time with Arthur.

"Misunderstood!" Morgana reiterates. "And -- and ostracized, and lonely, and depressed--"

"You sure do smirk a lot," Merlin observes innocently, "for a depressed person."

"Oh, get out, Merlin," Morgana snarls, "before I boil your insides."

"All right, fine. I'll leave you alone." He pauses at the door to stick his head back in. "Or will I?"

Then he's gone, and a bloody relief that is, too. To think that an idiotic, insolent servant boy actually considers himself a threat to her, an equal to her dark but necessary purpose. Hah!

Still, she checks behind her curtains, inside her wardrobe, and underneath the bed before she goes to sleep. Just to make sure.

In the morning, there's a fresh vase of roses on the table. This time, they're a nauseatingly cheerful pink.

"Oh, Gwen," Morgana coos. "You brought more roses!"

"I didn't, milady," Gwen says.

Morgana glares at the flowers.

As soon as Gwen leaves, she goes over to investigate them. There's a note impaled on a thorn.

 _Flowers, good. Murder, bad._

 _Just trying to help._

 _-M._

Morgana laughs.

But. You know. Wickedly, of course.

"See!" comes a voice. She shrieks. Merlin jumps out of the wardrobe. He's looking terribly smug for someone with a chemise hanging off one ear. "I knew you'd like them."

"I do not," Morgana mutters.

Merlin smirks at her. It really is annoying when you're not the one doing it.


End file.
